


I Know What I Am

by dreamingofsiha



Series: The Devil Takes Care Of His Own [1]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: (but not really friends), Blood Kink, Canon Typical Violence, Confessions, Dialogue Heavy, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mention of Past Non Violent Sexual Assault (non graphic I have expanded on this in the first note), Mention of Suicide for an OC Character, Slight Canon Divergence, Unhealthy Relationships, power struggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 17:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15124055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingofsiha/pseuds/dreamingofsiha
Summary: Kara groans as soon as she comes to. Back in this red fucking room.Again.She rattles against her restraints and hisses out a slew of cuss words that would even make Jess blush.She tilts her head back and stares at the ceiling, tries to think back to how she got captured. Larry. Larry was there? No, she was at Larry’s place. Then she... left? Alien abduction. No, peggy abduction? Same thing, almost. More cussing through a fat lip as she tries to make her brain work through the bliss bullet’s fog.“You really should be more careful.”John’s voice snaps her back to the room. He’s wearing his usual jeans, but a tight white t-shirt is in the place of his usual vest and button-down shirt, and his usually perfectly slicked hair hangs messily to the side. Kara wonders if her arrival caught him off guard. He looks good.-------------------------------------Kara knows that she's mostly limitless, but she surprises even herself with how far she'll go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! As referenced in the tags, there is a mention of a past non violent sexual assault and an OC suicide. I will explain it here so you can decide if you want to continue reading : The Deputy recounts to John about a colleague who became obsessed with her and then kissed and groped her one night when they were on duty. After Dep reported it to superiors, the man was punished and as a result of losing his wife and status etc, he committed suicide.  
> I hope that this isn't too triggering for anyone! Please stay safe!
> 
> Also I haven’t actually read Far Cry: Absolution, so I have probably taken some ‘creative liberties’.

Kara groans as soon as she comes to. Back in this red fucking room. _Again_. She rattles against her restraints and hisses out a slew of cuss words that would even make Jess blush.

She tilts her head back and stares at the ceiling, tries to think back to how she got captured. Larry. Larry was there? No, she was at Larry’s place. Then she... left? Alien abduction. No, peggy abduction? Same thing, almost. More cussing through a fat lip as she tries to make her brain work through the bliss bullet’s fog.

“You really should be more careful.”

John’s voice snaps her back to the room. He’s wearing his usual jeans, but a tight white t-shirt is in the place of his usual vest and button-down shirt, and his usually perfectly slicked hair hangs messily to the side. Kara wonders if her arrival caught him off guard. He looks good.

“Love the shirt,” she mumbles as best as she can with her fucked up lip. The pain brings back the memory of a smashing his fist into her face. She runs her tongue across the front of her teeth, which are thankfully all still there. Her gums ache with the promise of a bruise.

“I was... otherwise occupied when one of my teams said they had captured you. I’m hoping maybe this time you’ll be willing to say yes,” he tells her as he leans back against the table that usually holds the torture tools and folds his arms.

“Fuck off, John,” Kara groans, but there’s more exhaustion than malice in her tone. They’ve been playing this game for two months; hurting each other, hurting each other’s friends. Sharky and Adelaide say it’s going to end with fucking. Kara thinks it’s going to end with a fucking disaster.

“Such a filthy mouth on you. Show me how your sins have been healing.”

He moves towards her, and yanks down her t-shirt so he can see her collarbone. Kara’s still fuming about the fact he did it over her chest piece tattoo. When she leaves Hope County, she’s going straight back to her tattooist to see if she can morph the words into something vaguely unlike what they are.

“Perfect. Have you thought of anything you want to tell me, yet? Anything you want to confess?”

He looms over her, and Kara’s silently thankful as his body shields her eyes from the glaring red fluorescent light above them.

“Where’s Hudson?” She asks. John sighs.

“Safe, like I told you I would keep her. For now,” he grins.

“John,” she begins, “we do this at least twice a week. You bringing me here, us beating the shit out of each other, letting each other go. Don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, we’re wasting each other’s time?” Kara sighs. She can still see the almost perfectly circular blood stain on the wall where she’d smashed the side of John’s head into it during one of the first times she’d been captured and brought there. On the floor a couple of feet away from the wall are the drips of blood from where he’d got her forearm with a knife. She wonders if he leaves her restraints loose sometimes on purpose.

John narrows his eyes and scoffs at her.

“Confessions are never a waste of time. The time spent coaxing them _out_ is never a waste of time,” he tells her with an affronted tone like it’s something she should know by now.

Kara leans to her side to look past John. No camera. No guard standing by the door.

“We’re all alone,” she states. John casts a quick glance over his shoulder. All things considered, it feels nice to not feature in another torture porno.

“I can get the camera if it would make it easier for you to say yes,” he quips, and Kara snorts.

“Get me some water, and I’ll give you one confession,” she bargains. Her mouth feels like she’s had a three day bender with Hurk and Sharky. John’s eyebrow raises slightly before he turns and leaves the room. He re-enters a minute later with a glass of cold water.

“You’re gonna have to help me,” Kara rolls her eyes as John thrusts it towards her.

“Fine,” he grunts as he bends slightly and brings the glass to her lips.

“Carewul!!” Kara mutters as he pushes the glass against her lip too hard. John eases up with the pressure on her lip, and slowly tips the glass up. Kara tilts her head back in tandem, as John supports her chin with his middle and pointer finger. She downs the whole glass.

“Thirsty,” John comments. _You have no idea_.

“Now,” he exclaims as he sets the glass down on the table, “one confession, I believe I’m owed?”

He paces in front of her, his eyes locked on hers the entire time.

“Give me a sin,” Kara orders. John frowns in confusion.

“What?”

“Give me a sin that you want the confession to relate to. Like a dot point under a sub heading,” she elaborates. The demand is mostly because she’s sinned so many times she doesn’t know where to start; she had to find some way to spend her youth in the sticks of Colorado.

“Wrath,” John decides on after a few moments. They watch each other as Kara tries to flit through almost thirty years of sins. The one she settles on? John’s going to love how personal and specific it is.

She swallows, then begins. It’s going to be long winded, because Kara knows how impatient John is, and fucking with him is always too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“When I first joined the force, I was assigned to a sheriff. He was tasked with training me and taking me everywhere he went. You know, like on the job training. He was a couple of decades older than me, tonnes of experience, all that jazz. Seemed like it was gonna be a great opportunity.”

She pauses just to piss him off.

“Continue,” he grunts with a wave of his hand.

“We spent almost every day of every week together. Everything was fine, until he found out I started seeing someone.”

Another dramatic pause.

“And then what?” John snaps. He’s standing a meter in front of her now, glaring down at her with his arms folded. It would be too easy to grin, if her lip wasn’t a combination of numb and painful.

“He got real weird. Started getting short with me. Wouldn’t let me do anything. Yelled at me about paperwork errors, even though I always did it to the fuckin’ T. He used to offer to pick me up and drop me off for our shifts because we only lived a couple of suburbs away from each other, but he stopped offering. Made a snide remark about how my ‘boyfriend’ would be giving me a ride. Just made it real uncomfortable for me,” Kara recounts. She can see the confused expression on John’s face; he’s waiting for the moment he can connect her story to wrath. It’s coming.

“That awkward stuff went on for a few months. I spoke to a few people about it, but no one was really concerned. I guess I wasn’t either, I just shrugged and got on with my job. Just assumed he had some shit going on in his personal life, y’know?”

“Mmm,” John supplies. He sounds dangerously close to boredom.

“Anyway. Another month past and it got worse. He started shouting at me. Kept bringing up my ‘boyfriend’, even though it wasn’t really ever a serious thing. Wasn’t even Facebook official or nothin’.”

John’s eyebrows raise slightly at that.

“We were on a stake out one night, and we spent almost five hours sitting in silence. I finally cracked- couldn’t deal with the passive aggressive bullshit any longer. Asked him what his fuckin’ problem was.”

“You asked him just like that?”

“Yeah, in those words. He said he couldn’t believe I was doing that to him. I... I was confused. Didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. Then he started going on about how he was right there, how I’d led him on. I never led him on, I thought we were friends, as well as work partners.”

John stands a little straighter once he feels like the climax of the story is finally getting close.

“I just sat there. I didn’t know what to say. It was all so goddamn ridiculous. Then, he grabbed me and he kissed me. I tried to push him off, but I couldn’t budge him. He was grabbing my arm so hard I couldn’t move. I work out, but I was never going to be able to push him off me.”

Kara inhales.

“Then he shoved a hand between my legs. I clocked him, and when he was holding his broken nose I got out of the car and ran. I ran for an hour, straight back to the station. I must’ve looked a mess, because they took me to a room straight away and asked me what happened. I... don’t remember what I said, exactly, but I told them. Turns out I didn’t even need to tell them... we had two dash cams... one facing the road, and one facing the interior of the car just in case we pick up a suspect. The fucking idiot left both of them on. Not only did the interior camera record him... grabbing me, but the exterior one recorded me legging it down the fucking street.”

John’s mouth is hanging open ever so slightly. His attention is fully on her now.

“To cut a long story short,” _HA_ , “after his disciplinary hearing, he lost everything. Job, car, wife, kids. Not long after, he killed himself.”

Elongated silence as John contemplates where the sin is.

“He killed himself, and I didn’t even feel bad. Not one. Tiny. Bit. The time I spent testifying and having to watch that fucking dash cam vision over and over was worth it in the end.”

John’s eyes widen as a smug smile spreads across his lips. He circles her chair.

“How did it feel knowing he was gone?” John ventures.

“It felt good,” Kara admits.

“He could’ve done it to other women. Other women who weren’t lucky enough to have proof. He could’ve kept doing it, long after I left. I’m glad he’s gone,” she adds.

John folds one arm and rests his chin on his hand as he evaluates her.

A bead of something runs down the side of Kara’s face, and she hopes it’s sweat and not blood.

“Interesting,” John comments. He turns and leaves the room, leaving Kara to wonder what the fuck he’s doing. She sighs when she realises he’s probably gone for the tools. She raps her fingertips on the wooden armrests and clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth to count the seconds he’s gone. When the minutes turn into double digits, she leans back in her chair and lets her eyes get heavy. Fuck, bliss knocks it out of her every time.

She wakes with an unpleasant jolt. The light is off; the room now dimly lit with a large candle in a jar placed on the table.

“How long-“

Kara tries to rattle her arms against the restraints; but there are none. She glances down at her arms, and slowly lifts them, then waits a few moments before rising to her feet.

“Ugh,” Kara groans as she rubs her tailbone. Her ass cheeks are numb, and her neck feels creaky from sleeping sitting up. She stretches her arms; does a few squats and bends to ease her weary muscles back into movement. Her shotgun, jacket, radio, and satchel catch her eye on the ground by the table. Once she’s ready to go, she stands and moves to blow out the

candle. Underneath it, there’s a note pinned.

_Next time, I’ll pick a different sin. I know you’ve got more, and technically that wasn’t even your sin._  
See you soon.  
John. 

She puffs out the candle and makes her way into the night.

 *******  
  
  
“Guys, I think I’m fi-“

“Sweetheart, shhh! You were gone for almost eleven hours. There might be something on you,” Adelaide tells her as she grabs the hem of Kara’s t-shirt and vigorously shakes it.

“Pbfftt,” Kara splutters as her hair is fanned into her mouth.

“Nothin’ in her pants!” Sharky exclaims with an extra pat of her butt cheeks for good

measure.  
“I could’ve told you that,” Kara grins.

“Don’t hurt to check,” Sharky shrugs. He goes to give her another butt pat, and Kara lunges to smack his first. They both giggle as they dodge each other’s hands.

“I don’t think there’s any bugs in your stuff, either,” Hurk calls from near the bar as he scoops up her items and tips them back into her satchel.

“Can’t believe you came back with all your limbs. You got a fish lip on you, but all your limbs,” Mary May pipes up from behind the bar, where she’s pouring lemonades for everyone. It’s after midnight, but the temperature’s still sticky as hell.

“Did you get any extra limbs, if you know what I’m sayin’,” Adelaide grins as she helps Kara back into her jacket.

“No!” Kara says with mock offence.

“I’m a lady. Strictly no pre-marital sex for me,” she continues in the most stuck up voice she can muster. There’s groans and laughter throughout the room.

“Gee thanks, you guys,” Kara holds her middle finger up and moves it across the room.

“Hey, we ain’t judgin’,” Adelaide laughs as she grabs Kara’s hand. Kara twirls around as Hurk whistles.

“Ain’t much else to do around here, beside taking out peggies,” Mary May teases. Kara stops midway through her third twirl.

“Is this... are you guys encouraging me to fuck John Seed?” She asks.

“Nah. I mean, kind of,” Sharky admits.

“If you fucked him well enough, he might consider coming to the good side. Y’all just gotta move past that weird foreplay you got goin’ on,” Adelaide teases as she waves her hands like a hula dancer in front of her.

“Oh my god, why didn’t I think of that? I could just... fuck the absolute shit out of them. Fuck the shit out of all of them and get them to convert,” Kara pretends to have an epiphany.

“Yeah, girl! Use some of that pussy power. We’re desperate out here. Take one for the team,” Adelaide jests.

“Just get in there, and-“

Hurk stands and starts gyrating his hips. Adelaide cheers, and Sharky laughs. Mary May looks horrified for a few seconds before she bursts into laughter. He wiggles his way over to her and grinds a circle around her body.

“Ohhh, you mean like this?”

Kara gyrates on the spot. Adelaide whistles, and dances her way over to join them. Sharky turns up the jukebox and shimmies his way into the circle. They’re laughing and whooping; exaggerating their movements until it’s just a caricature of dirty dancing (which Kara thinks it might’ve always been, anyway).

“Mary May!” Adelaide points to the blonde in an attempt to get her to join in.

“No way! Ain’t nobody want to see that,” she declines with a wide grin.

“Bullshit! I’ve seen that ass!” Adelaide calls. Mary May rolls her eyes and grins as she starts setting the drinks on the counter. They’re all winding around each other in their path to the bar as Hurky grabs Kara and tips her fancily. She cackles as she kicks her leg up dramatically. Hurk lifts her upright and spins her away from him. She comes to a stop in front of the bar. They laugh and joke between sips of their lemonades, but Kara can’t stop thinking about John.

An hour later, when she heads out to the house she’s been gifted in Fall’s End, she sits on her bed and holds her radio in her lap. After a couple of minutes of contemplation, she tunes it.

“John?”

Kara tries to sound confident, but she’s pretty sure she just sounds desperate.

“Deputy. This is a surprise. Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” his voice crackles through almost instantly. Yeah, it is to me too, Kara thinks.

“Hope I’m not distracting you from anything important,” Kara says lamely. John huffs.

“Quite the contrary, I was looking for something important to do. Three a.m is a perfect time to say yes,” he cajoles.

“I’m not going to give you the big Y,” she starts, “but maybe I’m feeling up to another confession. If you’re interested.”

Silence.

“Do I get the pleasure of choosing the sin again?” John questions.

“As long as I don’t get another fat lip on my way there,” Kara replies. John chuckles.

“How about I send someone to get you? No funny business. A confession, and then you can leave.”

Her stomach tightens with nerves. She doesn’t trust him, but she doesn’t think he’s lying. There’s not much he wouldn’t do to get a confession- it’s his sin in it’s own way.

“I’m coming armed,” Kara warns.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. Someone will be by to pick you up in ten minutes. Meet them at those makeshift gates,” John commands. Kara stares at the radio, then flings it out of her lap and jumps from her bed. She tidies up her hair and re-powders her sweaty face, then changes into a pair of clean ripped jeans, combat boots, and a cropped singlet; grabs her satchel and pistol, then hides a switchblade in her boot. The strawberry chapstick is definitely only applied because her lips are feeling a bit dry. She makes it half way down the stairs before she spins and bolts as quietly as she can back to her room to spray a little extra deodorant on her underarms and stash her radio in her bag just in case.

It’s not hard to sneak out of the house; everyone’s in bed (and Sharky’s passed the fuck out in the other room - his rumbling snores indicating he’s not waking up any time soon), and the few people who aren’t are having a cigarette (or joints, judging by the thick aroma wafting through the air) in their yards, completely oblivious to anyone sneaking around. She nods to the pair on guard at the makeshift front gate as she walks down to the T junction and waits.

Another five minutes, and a non-descript utility truck with tinted windows pulls up. She walks quickly towards it and gets into the passenger side before her nerves can get the better of her. God, she hopes it’s not some weird smelly dude.

“... John?” She asks incredulously as her eyes fall upon his disguised figure- even with the baseball cap, faded flannel, and thick rimmed glasses he’s got balls coming that close to the town. She feels like she’s got monster sized balls as she fastens her seatbelt.

“Deputy,” John grins as he moves his foot to the accelerator.

Kara’s not sure what to say, so she doesn’t say anything at all. Neither does John. She keeps her eyes keen on the road and her surroundings; taking note of every direction and every turn off that he makes. Eventually, they come to a dilapidated church. A brief flashback sears across her vision of the last time she stood in a church at the same time as John.

“Come,” John tells her as he kills the engine. They exit the car, and she follows behind him and waits as he jams a key into the very old padlock on the church’s giant doors. Kara takes the minute to glance around for any sign of back up, but there is none. John finally pushes the doors open and the sound they make surely thunders across the county.

“I think it’s more fitting to confess in here than my bunker,” John tells her. Kara nods and continues to follow him. It’s dark, but her eyes soon adjust enough to focus on the rays of moonlight sneaking through the glass less windows. They walk past the pews, down to the middle of the church where an old Persian style rug is in place where a podium should be.

“Take a seat,” John tells her. Kara lowers herself to the ground; crossing her legs and placing her satchel beside her.

John sits opposite her and leans back on his hands. He shoots her a smug half smile that makes her roll her eyes.

“Get to it, then,” she commands.

“Pride,” he throws back.

“Instagram,” Kara shouts. The word echoes ridiculously in the space.

“Instagram?”

“Yeah, you know, that app where people post selfies and pictures of their fancy food and shi-“

John raises a hand.

“I know what Instagram is. I’m just... surprised,” he elaborates. “How does it relate to your confession?”

“I used to post a selfie every day. When I was at the gym, when I was about to go out, when I finished a shift, during and after a new tattoo. It sounds dumb as fuck, but the likes make me feel proud.”

Kara’s mostly bullshitting, and she’s not sure why. Yeah, she’s on Instagram, but the app’s lucky to get a post out of her once a week. She sure as shit doesn’t give a rat’s ass about some stranger’s opinion on the way she looks.

“You want validation,” John tells her. Kara exhales with laughter.

“Yeah, of course. Don’t you? Someone that walks around looking like you do has obviously got some pride in the way he looks.”

She dips her toe in, just to see where the tide might take her.

He stands and turns his back to her. Kara can see the outline of a pistol in his waistband.

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you.” His reply comes through a clenched jaw.

“I just thought you’d understand, that’s all I meant,” Kara says lightly. John glances over his shoulder.

“I’ve told you about my sins,” he says slowly. _No, you told me about your holes,_ she thinks.

“And I’ve told you mine,” Kara counters.

“Nowhere near all of them, and I’ve decided the first one didn’t count,” he retorts as he turns back to face her.

“Maybe I’ll tell you one every night,” she teases with a shrug. John’s quiet in consideration.

“Then you might as well say yes.”

Kara shakes her head.

“No,” she tells him. He stalks over to her and pulls her to her feet. One hand holds her shoulder, while the other grabs her jaw and tilts her face up to his.

“You will say yes to me. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve thought about it,” he whispers, just loud enough for her to hear. She stays silent and keeps her expression defiant; eager to see where this is going to go. Kara would be lying if she didn’t admit that somewhere deep down, she gets off on their cat and mouse game, especially since it’s recently moved past her being tied to a chair for their conversations.

“This place will leave you empty. I will leave you empty, if I have to. Either way, those confessions are going to pour out of you, and believe me when I say that you would rather I get it out of you than Jacob.” His thumb moves toward her swollen bottom lip, but stops just short of it.

“What makes you think anyone other than you’s gonna get anything from me?”

Surprise at her choice of words flits across his face so quickly that Kara almost misses it. She’d smile if she could move her jaw.

“We’ll see,” John retorts as he relinquishes his hold on her jaw. Kara takes a step back and rubs her chin.

“Well you’ve had two confessions today- and the first one absolutely _did_ count. You’re not getting a third,” Kara mutters as she folds her arms across her chest.

“One more, and then you can have a day’s break to think about the sins you can confess to me every following day.”

He’s back to smug again; his folded arms and defiant posture almost mirroring her.

“ _Jesus_. Did you ever lose a case when you were practicing?” Kara asks.

“No,” he tells her proudly.

“Did you just annoy the fuck out of everyone until they gave in?” Kara groans.

“Charmed the pants off them, actually.”

His expression doesn’t explain if that’s a joke or not.

“Well, some of us get places without charming the pants off people. Just sayin’.”

“Lust,” John says.

“Lust?”

“Your last confession for the evening,” he pushes. Kara glares at him. The pool for that is a fucking ocean.

“Give me a second,” she barks. John watches her with an intensity that’s not helping her concentrate.

“I accidentally broke up a marriage,” Kara eventually divulges.

“Didn’t know he had a wife?” John interjects with a knowing smirk.

“Actually,” Kara starts as she turns to her side and paces back and forth, “it turned out polyamory wasn’t something they wanted. They didn’t end up wanting each other, either, in the end,” Kara shrugs. John’s expression is strict, calculated, stoney. A muscle near his jaw twitches.

“There _are_ some holes you can’t fill, I guess,” she adds just for the fuck of it. John’s still staring at her.

“Right?” She presses.

“This is going to take longer than I thought. I need two confessions a day from you,” he orders. His eyes are on the ground as he circles her.

“But there’s only seven deadly sins. Why don’t we just do one per day? Seems a bit… excessive otherwise,” Kara suggests. John slowly moves into her line of sight.

“I’m doing you a favour here. I think I should have a say,” she tells him with her chin tilted up.

“Is that right?” he folds his arms as he looks down at her.

“Ye- mhm,” Kara corrects herself. John’s beaming at her when he shakes his finger in front of her face.

“See? You’re so close to saying it.”

He claps a hand on her shoulder, and Kara jumps.

“We’re making real progress, here,” John says as he claps his other hand down on her other shoulder. She says nothing; just gives him a blank look. It doesn’t seem to put a damper on his celebration.

“Tomorrow. What time?” John asks. His hands are still clasping her shoulders.

“Uh, I’ll have to… check my schedule?” Kara squints.

“Don’t be silly. I know you’ve got nothing planned except for random debauchery all across the county with your blasphemous little friends,” he half snarls, half grins.

“Ok, first of all, I’m offended, second of all, fuck you! My life don’t revolve around the goddamn Seed family, and it certainly don’t revolve around you! I got other plans too!” Kara slaps his hands away from her shoulders and takes a step back.

“Well then, get back to me when you’ve checked your _schedule_ ,” he leers.

“Fine!” Kara shouts. They glare at each other for a few minutes. It feels ridiculous.

“Come on, I’ll drive you back,” John says as he turns on his heel and saunters towards the doors. Kara picks up her satchel and takes double steps to catch up with him. They’re halfway back to Fall’s when Kara starts feeling brave again.

“How about dinner?” She suggests. John side eyes her.

“Fine,” John retorts.

“What time?” Kara asks.

“Let me check my schedule.”

Kara groans and rolls her eyes. She never would have guessed the baby Seed was such a fucking _baby_. Kara leans her elbow against the window and stares out of the tinted glass. In the distance, the horizon’s glow illuminates the sky. Brighter, brighter, and brighter – until the sun makes her next debut. It feels wrong, watching something so pure in present company. Next to her abuser. Kara wonders if John considers her to be both of those things to him. Maybe he’s so far gone, he doesn’t see anyone as anything other than prey.

“You can walk the rest of the way,” John interjects her inner monologue. Kara scrunches her face up and turns to face him.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not that far. You’ve got boots on, and you might even be able to find something to destroy on the way,” John adds.

“Fine,” Kara mumbles as she picks up her satchel from by her feet and slings the strap across her body.

She lets herself out and starts walking. Fall’s End is only just in her sights, but the pleasant warmth of the morning sun’s rays mixed with the cool breeze ensures it’s not a chore. She makes it twenty metres or so before she hears John rev the engine. _If he runs me over…_

As the car nears her, she’s sprayed with dirt and small rocks as John pulls a tight U-turn. She flips him the bird over her shoulder, and hopes he catches it in his rear-view mirror through the dust cloud.

***  
Kara can tell by the look in Sharky’s eyes and the exaggerated pout on his lips that Sharky’s thinking what she’s thinking.

“I wanna be Lucy Liu,” Kara demands as she strikes a pose. She’s always been her favourite Angel.

“I’ll be Cameron Diaz,” Sharky says as he presses his back to Kara’s and pulls his pistol from it’s holster dramatically.

“Don’t,” Jess groans from where she’s kneeling at their feet.

“You’re Drew Barrymore,” Sharky informs her.

“Thanks,” Jess grunts as she brings the binoculars up against her eyes.

“Do you think the Seeds ever watch us on their cameras they got ‘round the county and wonder how the fuck we’re getting the upper hand?” Jess asks.

“Nah, they’re too busy mutilatin’ people and lookin’ at themselves in the mirror,” Sharky grins. Kara snorts. True.

“How’s it looking?” Kara asks. She peaks over the side of the cliff to the valley, but they’re so high up everything looks like pinheads.

“Still nothing.” Jess reports.

“Fuck it, let’s just call it a day,” Kara says as she wipes her sweaty brow with the back of her hand. The afternoon sun is blistering, and she’s tired - she only got a few hours of sleep before Sharky got up and started banging around in the kitchen.

“Radio Fall’s and tell ‘em not to send a team. You sure they ain’t moving?” Kara double checks.

“I’m sure,” Jess nods.

“Do it,” Kara commands. Sharky grabs his radio from it’s holster on his belt and radios back. Kara helps Jess pack up their gear and they slowly start to head back to the van.

“Deputy.”

Kara stops.

So do Sharky and Jess.

“Is that who I think it is?” Jess snarls. Kara shoots her a glance that she hopes doesn’t look as guilty as she feels.

“Deputyyyy,” John calls again.

“Head back to the car,” Kara says. Jess gives her a pointed look. Sharky looks like he’s got exactly one hundred erection jokes to make.

“We’ll meet you there,” Sharky nods to Jess, and the hooded woman reluctantly tags along behind him. When they’re out of earshot, Kara seeks shade under a nearby tree before she presses the receiver. It’s still tuned to his private channel.

“John.”

“There you are. I’m surprised you’ve spent so long up there. It’s hotter than hell this afternoon.”

Kara stills. She moves her head slowly; scanning her surroundings. Nothing but trees and grass until it hits the cliff face. John couldn’t have been down in the warehouse below; Jess would’ve spotted him. Her eagle eyes are even deadlier when paired with binoculars.

“Where are you?” She questions.

“You’re in my region. I’m everywhere,” John taunts.

“Riiiigght,” Kara groans as she rocks up onto her tip toes to inspect the tree’s branches for signs of remote surveillance. She kicks a pile of twigs when she doesn’t find anything.

“What do you want?” She asks.

“I’ve evaluated my schedule. Does tonight at seven fit into your schedule?” He’s dripping with sarcasm.

“Unfortunately, I’m all booked for this evening,” Kara responds nonchalantly. She glances back to the truck. Sharky’s telling Jess a story with elaborate hand gestures.

“What?” John asks after an extended pause.

“I’m not free tonight,” Kara reiterates slowly. John laughs.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but I need my confession.”

“I’m not playing any game,” Kara provokes. Yeah, she’s playing a game. She wants to see how long it takes him to flip the table.

“Don’t make me send someone to get you,” he growls.

“Woah, now. There’s no need for threats. You’ll get your confession tonight,” Kara reassures.

“I better,” John grunts. The radio clicks, which means he’s changed channel while the line to her was open.

“Ice cold,” she grins as she trots back to the car. A plan starts to hatch in her mind, and by the time she makes it home, it’s fully formed and ready to take it’s first steps.


	2. Chapter 2

The good thing about John’s ranch being so close to Fall’s End is that it’s quick and easy to get there. The bad thing about it being so close to John’s ranch is that all roads out of Fall’s End are under heavy surveillance. The _other_ good thing about John’s ranch being so close to Fall’s End is that the faults and blind spots of said surveillance has been cracked by various members of the resistance.

She takes the long route; there’s a lot more hiding in bushes than Kara would prefer, but with most of the peggies’ eyes on the roads and the sun starting to set, she reaches the sprawling ranch relatively quickly. Binoculars let her know that there are five peggies patrolling the perimeter. Three of them are constantly yawning. Kara adjusts the straps of her rucksack and moves closer. She stops when she reaches a perfectly wide tree.

The ruck sack is gently lowered to the ground as Kara keeps an eye on the guards a couple hundred metres ahead. When she’s satisfied she’s not going to get sprung, she kneels and unlaces the bag. She lets out a quiet huff of half laughter half disbelief as she eyes the disguise she’s packed neatly into it. Adelaide didn’t ask any questions when she’d told her she needed a nice black dress and jacket, a brunette wig, and a pair of heels (she _had_ wiggled her eyebrows, but that was to be expected), and Kara’s thankful. She’s not sure how she would’ve explained it anyway.

Once the dress and wig are both on securely, she grabs the thick elastic band that will hold her switchblade and small pistol against her inner thigh. She double checks that the safety is on, so that Pussy Popper (the name was a joint venture between Kara and Sharky) doesn’t live up to it’s name.

The clutch bag comes out next, then the heels, which Kara slings over her wrist by their straps. She takes a couple of steps back to a dirt patch and rubs her bare feet in it. It feels awful, but she’s committed to the story. A quick check of her appearance in the little compact from the clutch, then another check to make sure her chest and arm tattoos are hidden by the jacket (which she’s had to zip up almost to her chin to hide her chest piece), then she leaves her bag stashed at the base of the tree, grabs the wine bottle she’s wrapped in gold ribbon, and moves out onto the road when the guard’s backs are turned. Kara makes it half way to them before they turn and notice her.

“Hi!” She calls out with a wave. The high pitched southern belle accent coming from her mouth sounds so genuine, she’s already impressed. The guards glance at each other, then back at her. They hold their guns tighter and stand a little straighter.

“I’m real sorry to do this to ya’ll, I know John’s not expectin’ me, but my car broke down just a few miles down the road while I was tryin’ to run some errands before I head to a friend’s for dinner, and with no reception and all, I thought I might just drop in here. Is he home?” Kara asks as she glances over the guard’s shoulders.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” The cleaner of the two peggies asks.

“Holly,” Kara exclaims with a sweet smile. She’s picked up a lot of interesting information about the other Seed brothers around the County, but neither of the two other men had a side piece. Kara hoped that she looked pale and brunette enough and her accent was cute enough to pass as John’s sometimes lover from Texas.

The men just stare.

“Why don’t you give him a call? I’m sure he’ll be fine with me hangin’ out for a while,” Kara suggests with a one shoulder shrug.

The dirty guard narrows his eyes as he brings a finger to his ear. That intrigues Kara – a more personal line than his radio channel?

“Mr Seed, sir? There’s a woman named Holly here. Her car broke down up the road. Says you two know each other, and wants to see you,” he rasps. He nods once.

“Brunette. Skinny. Real dressed up. Sounds like she’s from Texas,” the man replies.

“Understood,” he says after another few moments.

“Sorry, ma’am, but John’s not interested in company tonight.”

Kara’s heart sinks. She thought it was either gonna be a sure thing, or end in a fire fight. Fuck, recover quick.

“Can you try him again? Let him know I need to make a confession?” Kara pleads with the most pitiful doe eyes she can manage through her smoky shaded eyelids. The man sighs and presses his receiver again.

“Mr Seed? She says she gots a confession to make,” he relays. Kara makes eye contact with the other guard and gives him a nod, which he cautiously returns.

“He says you can go in, but don’t touch anything. He’ll be back around eight,” Dirty Man informs her.

“Derek will let you in.” Derek (Clean Man) grunts and leads her to the front door.

“Thank ya’ll so much,” Kara beams as he holds the door open for her. She wipes her dirty feet on the welcome mat, then steps over the boundary as if she’s done it a hundred times before.

“Don’t touch anything,” Derek barks a reminder as he closes the door and leaves her to her own devices.

It takes a few moments for it to sink in that she’s standing in John Seed’s house. Holy shit, she’s standing in John Seed’s house, and it’s real fucking nice.

She’s _absolutely_ going to touch everything. Kara places the bottle of wine on the dining table and lets her fingers trail along the various animal pelts and hand carved furniture that fill the ground floor. Kara’s not entirely sure what she was expecting to find, but there are marginally less bodies around the place than she imagined there was going to be.

Decadence is in bounds; the finishes alone would’ve cost what she makes in a year. She moves to the stairs; he hand wrapping around the banister as she snoops on the second level. Remnants of sunlight pour through the windows and illuminate everything in a soft warm glow. A couple of bedrooms, a bathroom - she stops there, and washes her feet in the tub (and that’s an experience in itself- she still remembers how her throat burned when he tried to drown her. _This one’s not clean_ ). The towel she grabs to dry herself feels like it costs more than everything she’s made in her entire life.

She straps her heels onto her clean feet and resumes her enlightening journey through John’s home. She stops in the hallway when she spots a large photo frame. John, Joseph, and Jacob grin back at her. It’s disarming to see them grinning with their arms around each other; there’s no indication that they are capable of the things they’ve done. She assumes Faith has taken the picture, and she feels a pang of sadness for her. Although she’s part of the Seed ‘family’, it’s obvious that she’s not a biological part. John hasn’t even mentioned her once.

The next room has a door slightly ajar. Kara peeks in and gasps. Model planes. Hundreds of them. She slams the door shut before she is tempted to go in and fiddle with things. Ruining a man’s model planes isn’t a boundary she wants to cross, even if they are John’s model planes and it would make him absolutely fucking furious.

Kara keeps moving, down to the end of the hall to the only closed door. She holds the doorknob and inhales.

The room is furnished similarly to the rest of the house; minimal, but elegant. The bedding is all white, which raises an eyebrow. The window that faces onto the balcony is left ajar, and the evening breeze billows the curtain towards the bed. It’s almost physically painful to resist snooping through his drawers and cupboards.

As Kara stands on the beautiful patterned rug at the end of the bed, she begins to feel a little bit lost.

“What am I doing here,” Kara wonders aloud. She catches sight of herself in a full-length mirror that’s situated in the corner of the room. Kara’s been telling herself she dressed up to sell the ploy, but now she’s not so sure. Now she’s in his house, acting like she belongs there, touching his things and waiting for him to arrive. Maybe in another life she could belong there if they both weren’t who they were.

A clock chimes so loudly that her heart skips a beat until she realises what it is. Kara walks back out to the hall. It’s eight pm. The house is no longer bathed in twilight, and she has to watch her step as she slowly makes her way back down the stairs. She takes a seat at the dining table and waits in the steadily darkening room. Suddenly, a phone rings from somewhere behind her. Kara holds her breath as it rings out. A long beep sounds out, then she hears a voice.

“After all the atonements, all the confessions, and all that you have done for me and Eden’s Gate it’s not enough. Is it, John?”

Kara’s eyebrows almost hit her hairline when she realises who is speaking; she’ll recognise that voice for the rest of her life.

“Cast away your past. You need to open up your heart. You need to see that there is more love all around you. All the pain and suffering you spread will not help us in the long run. These actions will only feed the sin inside you. It will grow stronger. It will convince you to do wicked things. Those you scar too deeply, they will heal. They will become carriers of your sin. They will spread that sin to others. I’ve seen your death in a vision. You’re destined to be slayed by your own sin. It will come back around in a new form. It’s only a matter of when. I’ve seen you die young, I’ve seen you die old. The difference between the two outcomes is how much love your let in your heart. I hope you hear these words before it’s too late. I want to see you become an old man in the paradise we prepared for. I love you, brother. I love you.”

Kara places her hand over her mouth; too shocked by the leader’s kind words to make a sound. She’s intruding, but she hasn’t felt like an intruder until now. Everything seemed so clearly laid out when she came to Hope County; cult gone too far. Megalomaniac leader. Joseph had opened himself up to her on a couple of occasions, but she’d never heard him speak like that. Is peace really what he wants? Have things just gone sideways with John and Jacob? Could it all be reversed- all be made pure and most of the damage undone?

It might be pointless to wonder. The things she’s heard and seen? Hell, the things that _she’s_ done? They’re all going to have to answer for it eventually, in whatever shape or form the punishment comes in.

Kara leans back in the chair and runs a hand through her hair. She forgets she’s wearing a wig and inhales sharply as the wig’s clasps pull on her own hair. As she stands, she sees her own reflection in the glass of a large photo frame on the wall. She’s not alone.

He grabs her by her neck and slams her into the floor.

“I’ve been watching you walk around my house for an hour. Who are you? I know you’re not Holly,” John asks calmly as she struggles beneath him. Kara moves her hands to the strong hand around her throat and tries to pry his fingers away. She can’t breathe.

“Who are you? Did the Duncans send you?” John asks again, even calmer than the first time. Kara tries to speak, but can only gasp. Her fist connects with the side of his face, and he tips to the side and falls against the chair. Kara slides back on the floor; gasping as the black spots in her vision start to fade. John quickly gets to his feet.

“I wasn’t going to hu- no, that’s a lie. I was going to hurt you. Now I’m really going to hurt you,” he growls as he stalks towards her. Kara tries to scramble to her feet but her heels don’t allow her to get the range of movement she needs. An attempt to shout at him is thwarted by her hoarse throat. She’s up and against the wall before she can grab a steady hold of either of her concealed weapons.

“You don’t know what you’ve do- “

Kara breathes heavily as his hands pin her shoulders against the wall. Her wig is half way off her head. It wouldn’t be a meet up with John if someone didn’t get choked, she supposes.

“Deputy?” John splutters.

“Let go of me,” Kara rasps. John releases her. She bends at the waist; her hands on her thighs as she inhales deeply. She lets out a growl as John rips the wig from her head.

“What the fu- _why_ the fuck?” He shouts as he flings the wig onto the dining table.

“You were supposed to come in through the front door,” Kara glares up at him. She slowly straightens, and scowls as her back protests.

“The disguise?” He half questions, half screams.

“Everyone in the County knows about your little fuck buddy, John. How else was I gonna get let into your house?” Kara reveals. John looks mortified. It’s the most human expression she’s ever seen him make.

“Holly’s not- we’re not- it’s an occasional- you _idiot!_ I could’ve killed you!” John stalks over to her and grabs her jaw.

“What was your plan, here?” He questions.

“Not this!” Kara yells as she slaps his hand away. They both take a step back and hold murderous eye contact.

“Why are you dressed like that?” He throws his hands up in the air as he finally takes note of her outfit. Kara wipes her sweaty upper lip with the back of her hand.

“Because I heard Holly’s a babe. Had to dress the part to get in here. And- “

Kara cuts herself off.

“And?” John grunts.

“And I thought I’d see if you were free for dinner,” Kara shrugs as she hobbles over to the dining suite to take a seat. John watches her with his mouth slightly agape. He closes it with a click of his teeth, then slowly rounds the table. His palm slides over a switch on the wall beside him, and the room is finally drenched in soft light.

“You dressed up- disguised yourself as someone I sleep with occasionally, in order to break into my house and have dinner with me.” He stops and grabs onto the back of a chair as he watches her. Kara runs a hand through her actual hair in a fruitless attempt to smooth it out.

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds real fuckin’ dumb,” she admits.

“That’s because it is _real fuckin’ dumb,_ ” John snaps with an exaggerated imitation of her accent.

“I was gonna throw in some confessions too,” she offers. John’s scowl softens slightly, but quickly returns.

“Did you come alone?”

“Sure did,” Kara admits.

“Does anyone know you’re here?”

Kara’s stomach twists in a knot. She doesn’t like the implications of that question.

“Of course.” It’s only half a lie. Sharky knows she’s going somewhere, but that somewhere was top secret. John pushes back from the chair and folds his arms across his chest. Kara places an elbow on the table and rests her head on her palm.

“Did I look a little bit like Holly, at least?” Kara jokes. John rolls his eyes.

“You only got the hair right, but that’s it. No tattoos. She’s taller and has bigger-,” he trails off and Kara grins. She makes a circular motion in front of her boobs with her free hand. Not like that’s hard; not many people are smaller than Kara’s Barely-B-Cups. John sighs loudly.

“Get out.”

“But I brought wine!” Kara says as she points to the bottle of vintage wine in the center of the table. She doesn’t know much about wine, but the ‘Vintage 1973’ written in gold letters seems fancy.

John glances at the bottle for a moment before leaning forward and picking it up. He holds the neck of it and turns it around in his hand.

“Where did you get this from?” He accuses.

“I didn’t steal it from you, if that’s what you’re implying,” Kara huffs.

“But you did steal it.”

Kara narrows her eyes slightly but doesn’t answer. John grins.

“ _Tsk tsk tsk_ , Deputy. Just what I thought. It’s not a good look to steal from law-abiding citizens.”

“Lucky there aren’t any law-abiding citizens left in this County, then,” Kara shrugs as she leans back in her chair and locks her hands behind her head. John gives her a smug smile as he rounds the table and leaves the room. Kara takes the opportunity to take off her jacket; she’s sweaty as hell, and it feels restrictive on her bruised neck. She hangs it neatly on the back of the chair and waits. When John returns, he’s holding two wine glasses in one hand, and the bottle in the other.

“You may stay for a little while. You owe me something, after all,” he tells her as sets the glasses down and uncorks the wine.

“Oh?”

“Confessions. Remember our little deal?” John reminds her as he places the bottle of wine back in the middle of the table. He picks up his glass and moves to sit in the chair directly opposite her. The distance between them is short and it comforts Kara’s fears of any future injury, but she slides her hand in between her thighs to check that her weapons are still there.

“How could I forget?” Kara groans before taking a sip of her wine. It’s bitter and strong and she hates it.

“I think more than one is suitable for this evening,” John sneers.

“Why?” Kara questions.

“Well, you’re here, you’re dressed up, you brought wine. Let’s make it an occasion,” John exclaims. His blue eyes twinkle with the promise of- murder? Maiming? Kara’s not really sure.

“How many confessions, then?”

“Three,” John decides.

“Two,” Kara attempts to bargain.

“Three, and you get to walk out of here without seeing the basement,” John counters.

“What’s in the basement?” Kara feigns ignorance. She knows what’s probably in the basement- the bodies that aren’t cluttering up the house.

“That’s where the walls would scream if they could talk,” John grins; all teeth and none of it reaching his eyes.

“Fine. Three,” Kara concedes.

“Excellent! Let’s begin!” John says as he throws up his hands in victory. Kara crosses her arms across her chest and frowns in defeat.

“Let’s start with gluttony!” John begins. Kara deliberates for a moment.

“Sometimes I eat a snack right before dinner, even if I’m not that hungry.”

Kara knows that’s nowhere near what he’s looking for, but she can’t resist pushing his buttons.

“Try again,” John orders.

“I’m not very gluttonous,” Kara objects.

“We are all guilty of all of the sins in some way,” he tells her. Kara raps her knuckles on the table as she struggles to think of a confession that might satisfy him.

“Too hard. Pass,” she exclaims eventually.

“Very well, we’ll come back to it. Sloth.”

Kara once again takes a long moment to think of something suitable.

“Sloth. Sloth sloth sloth,” Kara mumbles as she gazes up at the ceiling. What had she read about sloth? Laziness, yes, but it could also be failing to do the things you need to do- failure to take action. She moves her gaze to the scratched out sloth that’s just visible on John’s chest, and wonders how severe his sinning was.

“The man who- who I told you about. The one who killed himself. He sent me a message the day before he did it. He told me he needed me. Said he couldn’t live without me, and if I didn’t go to him, he’d kill himself,” Kara reveals. John leans forward ever so slightly.

“I didn’t go to him,” Kara finishes. John nods slowly.

“You didn’t love him,” John states. Kara shakes her head.

“I never had romantic feelings for him. Especially not after what he did.”

“Did you not care?” John asks as he carefully swirls his remaining wine in his glass.

“No,” Kara replies flatly. There’s no point in denying it, especially to John. She’d spent months putting on an emotional façade; pretending that she was just as upset as everyone else when that man had taken his own life, but deep down she didn’t feel anything at all.

“Sinners like him don’t deserve to be mourned,” John almost whispers.

“If we are all sinners, what is the difference?” Kara questions the logic.

“Rapists. They don’t deserve love. We don’t have to _love them_ ,” John hisses. Kara frowns; his bitter tone sounds like an imitation of Joseph. She knows where John’s limits are, now; knows that he has limits. With all of the _I’ll make you say yes_ talk, Kara wasn’t entirely sure what side of rapist and not a rapist he fell on. She downs what’s left of her wine, and John eyes her with interest.

“Back to gluttony.”

Kara stares at her empty glass.

“I’ve always had trouble having just one,” she admits out loud for the first time. In recent years, she’s cut back on her drinking significantly. In high school and her first two years at college (before she dropped out – marketing wasn’t for her), she’d drunk to excessive levels at least twice a week. She’d always blamed it on the culture, but there wasn’t anyone ever forcing her to get black out drunk every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night. Kara realised she had a problem when she started doing it on her own.

“Just one drink?” John pries.

“I mean, yeah, as well as the unnecessary food,” Kara continues. It’s starting to feel less like confession, and more like a therapy session.

“And what else do you indulge in to excess?” he questions further.

“That’s a whole different sin,” Kara laughs as she slowly spins her glass in circles by the stem.

“Lust, then.”

Kara stills and glances up at John. His expression reveals nothing.

“I think you can gather what I mean. The marriage breakup was… that was a mild incident,” Kara stammers. Heat pools in her cheeks and between her legs. John stands suddenly and begins to walk around to her side of the table. He moves slowly; his intense eyes focused solely on her. He stops right beside her and leans into the middle of the table to grab the bottle of wine.

“Our sins need to see the light of day. We need to tear them out and let something else fill their place; something good,” John explains as he pours her a half glass of wine. Kara inhales; he smells so fucking good. He smells expensive. Nothing like the cheap spray that Sharky assaults her nose with every day.

“You don’t need to give me the pitch, John,” Kara says. He glances down at her before making his way back to his seat on the other side of the table.

“I know I don’t. You’ll eventually say yes.” John’s infuriatingly smug, but his tone does nothing to eradicate the building ache between her legs. Fuck, is this all it takes? Kara’s never been particularly submissive, but she always seems to fall into the role with John.

She decides that’s not good enough. She needs to do better; needs to get the upper hand. She leans forward and takes her glass in hand.

“Well, since we’re sharing, why don’t you tell me a little bit about your sin? Do you think it was more greed, gluttony, or lust, when you were letting people fill those holes of yours?”

He looks like he’s seen a ghost. Kara knocks down the rest of her wine, then stands. Her heels click against the floorboards as she moves to John. He turns his body towards her.

“I think it’s a mix of all three, don’t you?” Kara says as she leans for the wine. It was unnecessary to go to the other side of the table for the bottle, but copying his movements feels like a power play. A very successful one, if she goes by the way his mouth is open ever so slightly.

“The good thing about lust is that it _does_ fill you. It fills all of those holes that no amount of confessing can-,” Kara pours herself another glass and then tops up John’s as she speaks, “- and then it fills whatever holes you want it to,” she finishes with a subtle shrug of her bare shoulder. John’s gaze flits down to her waist and back up. Kara waits until she has turned away from him before she smiles. When she reaches the other side of the table, she sets her wine down but does not take a seat, instead she places her palms on the table and leans forward.

“There’s just something so… _religious_ , almost, about taking another person inside of you. Letting them feel parts of you that are hidden. Letting them know things about you that are just as sacred as a confession.”

Kara can feel the wetness between her legs as she slowly lifts one knee up onto the table. Her other knee comes up, then she’s on all fours. John’s eyes widen and he leans back in his chair. That’s it. I know this is your sin. It’s not sloth. It’s lust. Kara begins to crawl towards him; her foot knocks over her wine glass, which rolls and smashes. She doesn’t look down, though; only breaks eye contact with John when she reaches the edge of the table and looks down to his crotch. Yes. She pushes John’s glass from the table, which joins Kara’s in a smashed heap on the floor.

“You’ll be cleaning that up later,” John tells her, but his eyes never leave her to assess the damage. Kara grins.

“I don’t think you could ever say no to lust, could you, John?” It’s a hypothetical question; Kara knows that he can’t. She grips the edge of the table and leans forward. John’s eyes flutter shut, and Kara lets hers do the same as their lips almost touch. Kara yelps as she’s grabbed and roughly pulled into his lap.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” John growls as his hand curls around the column of her throat. Kara sucks in a breath, but there’s no need; there’s only light pressure in the hold. The redness radiating from his hairline where she hit him earlier fans out in a light pink blush that is mirrored on his other cheek. He’s getting hot and bothered.

“And what am I trying to do?” Kara asks. She can feel how hard he is even through his jeans, and even a light grind disguised as a reposition against him makes a muscle in John’s jaw twitch. John moves his free hand under her dress, and she braces herself for touch. He pulls her gun from the strap and gives her a withering glare.

“Just in case. Didn’t plan to use it unless I had to,” Kara explains. John throws the gun away from them; it skids across the floor and out of sight. He pulls out the knife next. Kara opens her mouth to explain but doesn’t manage to get a word out when the hand on her throat is replaced by the blade of a knife. John’s eyes darken as the blade skims gently across her skin.

“Is that why you’re here? For lust?” John inquires as his free hand slides up the back of her neck and his fingers twist into her hair.

“Maybe,” Kara sighs. John grunts as he yanks her head back to expose more of her throat. She’s soaking wet, and she’s not sure what that says about her- as much as John’s hard on says about him, she guesses.

“And what makes you think I want to indulge you in your sin, Deputy?” John teases as he moves the tip of the blade down her throat and to the center of her chest. He applies more pressure until all she can feel is sharp, and her inner walls clench around nothing.

“Well I’m pretty sure that’s not a gun in the front of your pants.” Kara’s breath hitches as John’s grip on her hair tightens further.

“Maybe it’s got nothing to do with you. Maybe it’s got everything to do with this.”

The tip of the knife pierces Kara’s skin, and she feels a droplet of warm blood run between her cleavage. She doesn’t even think about the damage to her tattoos anymore. It feels like pure painful bliss.

“We both know you were hard well before you got the knife out. Maybe it’s both things,” Kara grins. Her heart feels like it’s going to break out of her chest.

John says nothing as he pulls the knife away from her. His grip on her hair ceases, and Kara slowly tilts her head down. John’s trying hard to keep his expression straight; very hard judging by the raised vein in his neck.

“You’ve been a pain in my ass.”

He slides the knife to her dress’ left strap and cuts it in one quick motion.

“You’ve made me look like a fool. Killed my people, destroyed my stuff, hit me just as hard as I’ve hit you, broken into my house and smashed my glasses, mocked the confessions,” John snarls as he severs the right strap. The dress pools at Kara’s waist, revealing her black lacey bra. He takes in the sight of the thin line of blood trailing down to her lingerie for a moment before he shoots his hand out to the side and stabs the knife into the table. Kara doesn’t flinch.

“You’ve given people out there hope that the world isn’t going to end and that they’re going to be ok. That they don’t _need_ us.”

John moves his hands down her sides, then around to grab her ass. Kara scrambles to find a grip on his shoulders as he stands.

“And?” Kara asks when John doesn’t continue his speech. He looks up at her as he carries her towards the stairs. Her crotch slides against his hard on with every step he takes.

“And you’ve played this goddamn game with me for months,” John growls as he moves her across his hip slightly so he can watch where his feet fall on the staircase. His steel caps land heavily against the wood which creak under their weight, causing Kara to wonder how long John had taken to sneak up on her in complete silence.

When they reach the top of the stairs, Kara slides one hand behind his neck and rakes her nails from the base of his skull to the base of his neck. She revels in the resulting eye flutter from John.

“You’ve been playing this game with me,” Kara corrects him as they move down the hall and towards his bedroom. The door is shut. John opens it with a brutal kick.

“You want me to _fill_ you? I’ll give you what you want,” John snarls as he throws her onto the bed. Kara doesn’t even finish a single bounce before John’s hands are at her waist and tearing off her dress and underwear in one motion. He throws her clothes to the side and leans back down. Kara presses the sole of her heel encased foot to his chest and pushes him back. She gets to her feet and puts her fingers to work on his belt buckle. Her hands slap John’s away when he tries to assist her.

“Let me,” she hisses as she throws the chunky buckle to the ground and moves to his shirt and vest. John lets one hand rest at his side and raises the other to thread through her hair as she undresses him. Kara couldn’t have stopped the huge grin that spreads across her face when she pulls down his jeans and briefs and exposes his cock, but she’s able to hide it as she slides off the bed and onto her knees in front of John as she unlaces his boots in record time.

“If only you could apply that thoroughness in different situations,” John says as he steps out of his boots and clothes.

“Situations that benefit you?” Kara huffs as she stands and sets to work on his vest and shirt. John’s hands roam up and down her sides as she does so, and it makes her already severe ache between her legs border on painful.

“Yes,” John confirms.

She pauses as the key on the long leather strap around his neck is revealed. When she reaches out to touch it, John grabs her arms and spins her around. His fingers work at the clasp of her bra at expert speed. He spins her around again and grabs the front of her bra and flings it away from them. They both take a moment to drink the sight of each other in; pale and bathed in moonlight and ready for each other. Kara’s nipples are as hard as John’s cock, and seeing how perfect his size is makes her even giddier with anticipation than she already is. When her gaze eventually makes it’s way back up to John’s face, she’s greeted with the smuggest smirk she’s ever seen.

“Don’t look at me like that. _You_ were wrong,” Kara laughs as she takes a step towards him.

“Wrong about what?” John’s affronted by the accusation that he’s ever been wrong.

“About what my sin is,” Kara whispers as she places a palm over the mangled letters of sloth that are carved into his chest. He stares at her for a long time.

“I know,” his defeat is barely audible as he grabs her shoulders and pulls her against him. Their lips meet, passionately moving against each other as their hands glide over and grab whatever curve they can. John’s cock presses against the flesh just above her belly-button and she can feel the unmistakable slick of his precum. He’s setting her on fire; the way he kisses her is so passionate and skilled that Kara forgets her lip is still a little sore and feels like _this_ is crossing the line by twenty five miles. It feels too intimate, almost. She wonders if he only fucks; if he ever makes love. _You have to love them, John,_ Joseph had told him. Is he capable of love?

John groans into her mouth before dragging his mouth from hers to lick the length of her jawline to her earlobe. He pulls her soft flesh between his teeth, and bites down. Kara’s nails drag haphazardly down his back as the pain pulls a moan from her.

“Is this what you want?” John whispers into her ear between soft kisses to the cartilage of her ear. Kara tilts her head to the side and lets her eyelids flutter shut. His hands hold her waist; his thumbs stroking her skin as he keeps her in place.

“Yes,” she replies breathily without truly thinking of the implications of the word. John stills for a moment; his hot breath against her ear causing the fine hair on the back of her neck to stand on end and a shiver to roll down her spine. He takes a step back. Kara’s hands stay in the air halfway between them as if he was still there.

“Get on the bed,” John orders. Kara slowly turns but is stopped by a yank of her hair. His other hand moves to the small of her back, and he walks forward with her. When they reach the bed, John moves his hand to the back of her neck and pushes her down until she’s leaning on the edge of the bed with her elbows and her ass is held steady in the air by her perfectly straight legs. Her hair is still twisted in John’s grip; tilting her head back slightly. She’s never been particularly submissive, but the way he holds her so firm makes her cunt ache for him. The fact that her heels are still on is so hot she wants him yesterday.

“Please touch me,” Kara sighs. She yelps in surprise when a hand comes down hard on her ass.

“That’s for the glasses. They came all the way from Italy. Do you have any idea how much it costs to have something shipped from Italy to Montana?” John growls. Kara rests the side of her face against the bed and wiggles her ass.

“Weren’t there two glasses?”

John relinquishes his grip on her hair and uses a hand to hold her hip as he rains another blow on her other ass cheek. He’s not gentle and it sears for a few seconds at an almost unbearable level before it recedes to a dull throbbing.

“And I touched some of your things. Used your bath tub. Oh, and your silos,” Kara pushes breathlessly. She’s always been a firm believer of Go Hard Or Go Home.

He smacks her again; three times, in quick succession. Kara moans and digs her nails into the mattress. John’s hands meet her hips, then slide back to cup her cheeks. His palms move in gentle circles over her beaten skin to soothe it in a show of aftercare that Kara didn’t expect to see. After twenty seconds or so, he grabs onto her cheeks and spreads her.

“Very nice, Deputy,” John coos as one of his thumbs slides down her ass crack, over her asshole, and down past her wet folds to tease her clit. His ministrations on her throbbing nub makes Kara’s legs twitch. She inhales sharply as the tips of two of his fingers enter her, only to leave again and glide across the surrounding skin of her labia. She feels swollen and needy; wants him to put his thick dick in her and fuck her already.

“You’re almost dripping. Do you get this wet when we hurt each other?” John asks. Kara looks backwards to shoot him a glare and he grins.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being the one in charge? Giving all the orders. Making people confess,” Kara questions as she turns until her back is flat against the bed and she’s propped up on her elbows.

“Don’t you ever get tired of annoying people?” John grunts as he curls his hand around his shaft and begins to lazily stroke it. Kara spreads her legs a little wider, so he has a better view as she slides her hand between her legs and spreads her pussy with her v-shaped fingers. John swallows, but keeps his expression otherwise indifferent. She’s going to make him crack and fall apart, one way or another.

“If it’s you? No,” Kara huffs as she reaches out with one hand. John moves until he’s standing between her spread legs. When she moves to grab his key, John’s hand is immediately at her wrist.

“Trying to pull you closer,” Kara explains. There’s not much trust between them (if any at all), but Kara wouldn’t pick now to run off with his bunker key. Now that she knows he keeps it on him? She’s going to have to alter a few upcoming plans. John studies her for a moment before he slowly drops his hand away and lets her pull him towards her by his necklace. He puts a hand either side of her head and leans down to kiss her. Kara tilts her head away from him just as his lips meet hers.

“I’d rather something else in my mouth,” she tells him. It takes John a second to process, then he’s above her, shuffling up until his knees are either side of her head. Kara manoeuvres her right arm out from under his leg and cups his balls as she lifts her head slightly to take him into her mouth. John makes a strangled noise as she moves her hand from his balls around to his ass and pushes him down towards her, so she can take him as deep into her throat as she can manage.

“You want me to fuck your face?” He asks. Kara hums in confirmation, and she’s certain John’s thighs wobble ever so slightly as she continues lifting her head up and down and using her tongue to tease him. John begins to roll his hips, and she waits until he finds his rhythm before she drops her head flat against the mattress. He’s filling her mouth and throat so fully that she has to breathe only out of her nostrils as he slides his cock in and out of her wet, hungry mouth. He tastes good; clean and a little salty, and she loves the way his balls press against her chin. His pubic hair is trimmed very short, and his balls are completely hair free. She’s silently thankful; there’s nothing worse than getting a mouth full of scraggly unkempt hair when you’re trying to deepthroat someone (and Jesus, it’s been a while, she realises).

“That’s better. I love it when you don’t say much,” John goads as he continues to fuck her throat. Kara lifts her hand from his ass and smacks him as hard as he had smacked her. John groans, and his movements stutter for a few moments as he recovers. He speeds up; the tip of his cock pushing past her uvula and triggering her gag reflex. Kara tilts her head back slightly as her eyes begin to water. Suddenly, he stops and falls to the side of her. Before Kara can get a word of protest out, John’s sliding her up the bed.

“Legs back,” he orders as he slaps her thigh. Kara brings her knees back to her shoulders and holds them there with her hands behind her knees. They look at each other and exchange a smouldering glance before John moves in front of her and lowers his head to her cunt. He wastes no time in tasting her; his tongue only circling her clit for a few seconds before he presses it into her. Kara watches him with hooded eyes; he keeps his baby blues on hers the entire time he swirls his tongue around and into her. He sneaks a finger into her as he works on her clit, and she drops her head back with pleasure. Kara moans with encouragement, and John takes it upon himself to add a second finger inside of her.

“So _tight_ ,” he groans as he crooks his fingers. Kara inhales; squeezes her eyes shut and sees strobing light behind her eyelids as the tips of his fingers manage to stimulate her g-spot. John starts to get rougher with her; his teeth nipping at her sensitive flesh as he slams his fingers in and out of her. The wet noise it makes is obscene and so fucking hot- Kara raises her ass off the bed slightly in an attempt to take his fingers even deeper, but John growls against her and slams her back down with a hand to her abdomen.

“Stay down,” he demands before returning to his task. Every lick, nibble, and suck on her clit brings her closer to orgasm, and when John adds a third finger, it doesn’t take long for the sensation of the added stretch to tip her over the edge.

“J-John!” Kara shouts as her peak hits. She arches her back and lets the throbbing heat roll through her, and it feels like two heavenly minutes before the crescendo finishes.

“Good,” John sighs as he licks a hot trail from her clitoris to her belly button. Kara slowly lowers her aching legs around him as he moves his body above her. His key sits between her breasts, and the cool metal makes her shiver.

“You gonna fuck me proper, now?” Kara asks as she brings her hands to grip at John’s hips. He sits over her on his knees, and grins so sharply Kara’s gut twists ever so slightly.

“That wrath is unnecessary now,” he tells her. Yeah, she knows where this is going. Kara doesn’t know if it’s the post orgasm throes or if she’s more self-destructive than she wants to believe, but she’s not against it. It was bound to get weird and sadistic at some point.

“It was always unnecessary,” Kara retorts. She slides her hand around to his rock-hard cock, and begins to pump it slowly, which earns a minute thrust of appreciation from John.

“You need to wear your lust,” John grunts as he trails his fingers up her chest and to her throat.

“But I’m not wearing anything at all, except for the heels,” Kara teases. John rolls his eyes as he removes his hand from her neck and leans forward to open his bedside drawer.

“Get a condom while you’re there,” she tells him. John rummages for a few moments before he moves back above her. He flings the condom wrapper at her; Kara turns her head in anticipation of being in it’s path, but it lands just beside her hair. She turns her head back to look at John, and her eyebrows almost hit her hairline.

“I’m thinking on the other side. Right here,” John says as he taps the non-bladed end of the scalpel just under her collarbone; directly across from where he carved wrath all those weeks ago.

“Do you do this to all of the women you sleep with?” Kara inquires. John regards her for a few moments before replying.

“No,” he answers.

“Then why me?”

John’s gaze drops from hers and off to the side slightly. It’s a little too raw and tender, considering he’s holding a scalpel above her.

“Oh. Did I hit a nerve? Not comfortable enough to go there?” Kara pushes to get him back in the game. John meets her eyes again, and this time his are filled with anger. He pulls the blade protector off and throws it on the floor.

“Do it, then,” Kara urges as she lifts her head to tuck her hair under her shoulders. John doesn’t take any more convincing; he places one hand in the middle of her chest and begins to cut her with the other. The pain is hot and sharp, but it’s not unbearable enough to make her flinch or grit her teeth, and it’s certainly not unpleasant enough to destroy the ache that’s persisting between her legs. Kara knows it’s fucked up- it’s fucked as all hell, but there’s a real chance that the ache persists because of the pain.

She keeps her eyes trained on John as she reaches between his legs to grab his cock again. John’s hand stills for a moment at first contact and he gives her a quick glance, but he doesn’t stop her. Kara moves her hands to cup his balls, and the hand on her chest twitches ever so slightly as she begins to massage him in her hands.

“Yeah, I think it’s both,” Kara thinks aloud. John ignores her; concentrating fully on the mutilation in progress. All things considered, she’s impressed he’s managed to stay hard for this long. She risks a little prod of his asshole with the tip of her middle finger, and grins as his eyebrow twitches.

“There.”

John leans back on his haunches so Kara can prop herself up on her elbows. It’s a bit of a bloody mess, but she can clearly see the grooves of the letters.

“Neater than the tattoo,” she grunts. She’s pleased that he cut just above her tattoos this time instead of turning it into a weird scar tissue/ink amalgamation. John leans back to place the scalpel on the bedside table before leaning back to admire his handiwork.

“Perfect. Exactly where it needs to be,” he mutters. A droplet of blood slides down the skin on the side of her breast.

“I should put something over th-,”

Kara tries to sit up, but is stopped by John.

“Leave it,” he commands. Kara raises an eyebrow as she nods. She shouldn’t be surprised, she supposes. There’d been many a conversation with her companions about the Seeds where John had been referred to as Patrick Bateman through the entirety of it.

He reaches for the condom beside her head and tears it open.

“Finally,” Kara groans as she pulls her hand away from his cock. John rolls the condom over his tip and down his shaft, then slides his knees backwards so he can get between her legs to enter her. Missionary? Kara’s not going to just fucking lay there and take it- she’s done enough of that. She wants to be on top and take it. She grabs John’s hips and in one swift motion, rolls them to the side so she ends up on top. John opens his mouth to say something but doesn’t manage to get anything out before Kara clamps her palm over his mouth.

“That’s better. I love it when you don’t say much.”

Kara uses his own line on him as she reaches down to guide him inside of her. There’s a little bit of resistance at first, but once his tip pops in, she takes all of him at once. They both groan in pleasure, and Kara drops her hand away from his mouth to beside his head to support herself as she begins to move. John’s hands grip her hips with a punishing pressure, and Kara takes joy in the thoughts of tomorrow’s bruises.

“Alright?” She checks as she rolls her hips; grinding down until he’s balls deep with each repetition.

“Yes,” John hisses as he tilts his head back against the bed and closes his eyes. Kara brings her free hand up and slaps him. Hard. His beard takes the brunt of it, but his cheek still reddens instantly.

“Look at me,” she demands, and John looks too surprised to protest. His cock twitches inside of her as she takes his throat in her hand and switches her body weight from her supporting hand to the hand holding John’s throat. There’s something akin to fear in his eyes for a moment, and Kara considers backing off. Mary May’s disapproving face flashes somewhere in her mind, and she decides against going easy on him. Instead, she rolls her hips quicker until she’s snapping against him and his nails are digging into her sides.

“I’m close,” John snarls as best as he can with the pressure around his neck. Kara fucks him with reckless abandon, and John begins pumping up into her with a shaky rhythm as he nears his release.

“Come now,” Kara hisses as she presses her fingers into the skin of his throat. John’s choked moans get louder as he stills beneath her, and she feels his cock pulsing inside of her as he empties his seed with one last upwards thrust. She slows her pace until she’s sure John’s done, then moves her hand from his neck and flops down on top of him. John pants for a while, and she can feel his pulse racing against her cheek when she buries her face in the crook of his neck. His fingers trace idly up and down her sides as they lay there. Kara only came once, but she feels a certain kind of relief that she can’t explain. It feels peaceful, just laying there like that; like maybe it was always going to happen, and they’ve fulfilled some weird prophecy.

“I need to pee,” she tells him as she slowly peels herself away from him. Kara slowly slides his spent cock out of her then falls to the side of him. John watches her; his expression trying so hard to be unreadable that it’s obvious there are a hundred thoughts racing through his mind. There’s a backwards imprint of a bloody LUST on his chest where she lay, but if he’s noticed, he doesn’t mind.

“Here, I’ll get rid of this,” Kara shoots him a half smile before slowly removing the condom; her fingers pinching the opening, so she doesn’t spill any of his cum. His fingers briefly ghost over the small of her back as she does so. Kara stands, then makes her way to the bathroom on shaky legs made shakier by the fact that she’s still wearing the damn heels.

Kara throws the condom into a little bin beside the toilet, then sits down to urinate. It takes a little longer than she’d like; her pussy is so sensitive that she can’t pee straight away. Finally, she finishes on the toilet. Wipes, flushes, washes her hands, and uses a couple of tissue to dab at the sweaty parts of her face. Most of her foundation is gone; transferred to John’s sheets or his neck. She stares at herself in the mirror for a moment; the LUST and the already scabbing circle above the center line of her cleavage now permanent reminders of the time she fucked the enemy. That fact that she doesn’t feel any disgust as she daps at it with a damp tissue worries her.

Eventually, she drifts back into John’s bedroom.

“Hey, we didn’t even have din-.”

Kara stops a few steps into the bedroom. He’s pulled a sheet up to just below his belly-button, and he’s sound asleep. Kara ponders awkwardly for a few moments. What is she supposed to do now? Crawl back into bed with him and join him in sleep? She scrunches up her face at the thought. No. She has to leave. It was only meant to be a one-night stand after all, right? It’s not like John would care; if he was awake, he’d be telling her to leave. She’s sure of it.

Kara quickly and quietly gets dressed while casting glances to John to make sure she hasn’t woken him. She has to wear her dress like a skirt and hold it at her waist as she patters down the stairs to grab her jacket, which she puts on and zips up to cover the sight of her bra.

“Fuck,” Kara whispers as quietly as possible as glass crunches beneath her heel. She’s definitely not going to be cleaning that up, and the thought of how furious John will be in the morning when he finds the sticky red wine puddle is still there makes her exhale through her nose. Once she picks up the wig from the dining table, she lets herself out of the house and trots down the dirt road towards the tree where she left her bag. There are two new guards standing where she came in, and she avoids eye contact with them. _Doesn’t count as a walk of shame if you don’t make eye contact with anyone_.

Thankfully, the bright lights from John’s ranch illuminate the area enough that she can see what she’s doing as she changes back into her regular clothes. She moans in relief as she finally pulls the heels off her feet, and groans when she sees the giant blisters on her ankles.

Kara gives the ruined dress one last sorry glance as she zips up her bag and sets off in the warm night to Fall’s End.

***  
“Adelaide,” Kara hisses as she raps on the door. Still nothing.

“ _Adelaide!_ ” She hisses louder as she uses the steel capped toe of her boot to knock louder. God damn, her legs hurt. Kara doesn’t think she’s fucked anyone like that for years. Her chest is starting to sting a little, too. She makes sure her jacket is fully zipped so no one can see the new addition.

“What in the-.”

Kara’s eyes widen as she slowly turns in the hall. Pastor Jerome’s head is hanging out of the doorway to the room that he’s claimed as his in the Spread Eagle Bar.

“Girl, what are you doing here so late?” Jerome asks as he rubs his eye with his knuckles. Kara realises she hasn’t even looked at the time.

“I-I’m visiting Adelaide,” Kara says as she points towards Adelaide’s door. Jerome gives her a doubtful look before shaking his head.

“She went out tonight. Don’t know where,” Jerome informs her.

“Oh. Ok, thanks,” Kara nods.

“Hey, you alright? You don’t look so great,” Jerome says as he steps out into the hallway.

“Yeah! I’m good. I’ll come back tomorrow. Thanks, Pastor.” Kara gives him a quick sailor salute as she makes her way back down the stairs and out onto the main street. She lets herself in when she reaches her house, and sneaks past Sharky, who is still snoring loudly on the couch. _No wonder you’re always whinging about your back, you dickhead,_ Kara thinks as she notices the weird contorted position he’s fallen asleep in. She leaves the TV on for him; just turns the volume down low, then leaps up the stairs to her room.

Once Kara’s taken off her remaining makeup, cleaned and dressed the letters, changed into clean underwear and a tank top, she flops onto her bed. She sighs in contentment; her mattress welcomes her aching body in a gentle hug, and her pillows feel more heavenly than usual. She closes her eyes, turns her head to the side, and catches a whiff of John’s cologne. Her eyes spring open again, and she moves her head back so she can look up at the ceiling.

Kara doesn’t know what this means for the Resistance. She doesn’t know what this means for her. Has she made things worse, or better? Anxiety creeps into her gut as she begins to realise the potential full weight of what she’s done. _This is a lawless place, and you don’t need to play by the rules,_ her inner voice soothes her as she flings an arm over her eyes in an attempt to make the dark room pitch black. How would Mary May react knowing that she _actually_ fucked John? How would Sharky react? Sure, they all joked about it, but what if they knew she did it? That she fucked the man responsible for so much torture and pain in the County? That she’d fucked the man responsible for some of her torture and pain? Jesus, she was fucked _up_. She knows she’s fucked up for sure when she decides she’d be willing to do it again.

***  
“Kara!” Sharky shouts. Kara snaps awake and sits up with her fists ready to throw hands.

“Woah! It’s only me!” Sharky says as he backs up into the doorway.

“Jesus. What the hell you yelling for?” Kara grumbles.

“It’s your friend, that other Deputy,” Sharky explains.

“Hudson?” Kara swings her legs over the bed and stands.

“Yeah, her. Someone dropped her off a couple hundred metres from the gates this morning. She’s ahhhhh holy _fuck_ , what the hell is that?” Sharky gasps as he points a finger at the angry red S and T peeking out from the thick strap of her tank top.

“It’s nothing. Where is she?” Kara asks as she turns and stomps over to her dresser to grab a t-shirt and some shorts. Sharky narrows his eyes in suspicion, but doesn’t press.

“Mary May and Pastor Jerome have got her in the bar. They’re feedin’ her and givin’ her something to drink. She looks real bad, K,” Sharky explains as Kara turns her back to him and changes into a t-shirt that will cover her décolletage.

“Give me one sec to put some shorts and shoes on and I’ll go,” Kara tells him over her shoulder.

“You got it,” Sharky replies as he closes her door.

“Shit,” Kara huffs as she pulls on her shorts, then sits down on the floor to pull her boots on. The last time she’d seen Hudson was when John had them both in the room together, and Kara had volunteered to go first.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she mutters as she leaps down the stairs two at a time. She meets Sharky in the lounge, and they leave together.

When they reach the bar, there’s a small gathering on the porch.

“Comin’ through!” Sharky announces. The residents of Fall’s End give Kara sombre glances as she weaves between them.

“Hope she’s alright,” a man says as she enters the bar.

“I’ll get you a clean towel, and then you can- finally!” Mary May exclaims. Kara stops dead in her tracks as her gaze falls onto Hudson. She’s hunched over on a chair, sitting completely still as Mary May dabs an antiseptic wipe across a dirty looking wound on her forehead. Her uniform is blood stained and loose fitting.

“Joey?” Kara squeaks. Hudson slowly turns her head until she spots Kara.

“Kara?”

Kara runs to her, and Hudson stands with the aid of Mary May’s arm to meet her embrace. They throw their arms around each other, and Hudson begins to shake.

“It’s ok. It’s ok. I’ve got you,” Kara soothes her sobbing friend as tears prickle in her own eyes. Hudson grips the back of Kara’s t-shirt as if she’s afraid to let go. They stay that way for a few minutes; holding each other tightly as Hudson sobs. Kara glances at Mary May and Sharky, who are looking down at the ground out of respect for the intimate moment.

“Th-Thank you,” Hudson stutters into Kara’s hair as she rubs gentle circles on Hudson’s back.

“What did you do?” Mary May asks. Kara’s heart feels like it skips more than a few beats. She didn’t plan for anything like this.

“I-,” Kara begins.

“I don’t know what you did, but he said it was because of you. That you did something for him,” Hudson sniffles as she takes a step back to look at Kara.

“Him? You talkin’ bout John Seed?” Mary May growls. Kara doesn’t know what to say.

“What’s she talkin’ about, K?” Sharky asks as he exchanges a surprised glance with Mary May.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I sorted it out,” Kara tries. Is that what she had to do this whole time to get Hudson back? Just fucking _sleep with him?_ Her heart aches as she glances at Hudson’s bruised face and neck. _Fuck_ , if that’s all she had to do, she would’ve done it sooner. She would’ve fucked all of the Seeds if she had to- would’ve fucked them all at the same goddamn time, if that’s what it took.

“Thank you,” Hudson tells her again before moving back into Kara’s embrace. Kara glances over Hudson’s shoulder at Sharky, who’s giving her a look that lets her know wordlessly that they’re gonna be having a chat later. Kara can’t bear to look Mary May in the eyes, so she squeezes her eyes shut instead.

“I’m so sorry,” Kara whispers against Hudson’s ear.

“Don’t be. You got me back,” Hudson replies shakily.

_If only you knew._

“Come on, let’s get you into a warm shower and a nice, soft bed,” Mary May interrupts. Hudson and Kara take a step back from each other, and Hudson follows Mary May to the stairs. Kara doesn’t miss the look Mary May gives her before she disappears to the second floor. Sharky is still giving her the what the fuck, dude, look.

“Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I really hope you enjoyed it! Please subscribe to the series if you'd like to read more about John and Kara. You can follow me on tumblr at dreaminginstasis.tumblr.com if you'd like to chat with me about video games and fic! :)


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